


of sharpest tooth

by salt_rose



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Possession, my half of an art/fic trade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23472823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salt_rose/pseuds/salt_rose
Summary: for my beloved mik.for the full experience, listen towe have it all by the pim stoneson repeat while you read this.
Relationships: Iron Bull & Female Lavellan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	of sharpest tooth

He no longer moves the same. 

She remembers, then, when she first saw Bull, surrounded by Venatori. He moved like a murmuration of starlings, waltzing through the battlefield as if it were his stage.

(now he moves like a brittle   
breeze through stalks   
of dried corn)

  
They had won, and yet unease settles in her stomach and curls around her lungs. She moves through amber in the days following the defeat of Corypheus, freed only when Bull seeks her out. 

She should be happy, Cora whispers to herself when Skyhold sleeps and the stars sing her lullabies. Bull holds her close but his hands are wrong he is - 

  
-is _wrong._

She remembers the night Bull surprised her in her their chambers. The way his hands encircle her waist, and the trail of his mouth down her neck sends tremors down her spine, even now.

(now the thought  
of his hands  
_anywhere_  
makes her nauseous)

(where did she go wrong?)

(he is _hers_ \- her _kadan)_

She imagines his face when - if - she tells him such: how broken he’d be. He’s already lost his home, his people - she cannot take his kadan too.

He may be of iron, but even iron shatters.

Perhaps Leliana has a solution.

  
(so long as it is  
not a dagger  
in the dark or  
poison in wine)

Fingertips brush the dragon tooth that is settled between her breasts. It grounds her, when Bull is away. It guides her _home._

(She has no home now)

***

Seven days pass and Krem stops Cora in the rotunda on her way to see Leliana.

  
(Does Chief seem…off, to you?)

  
(You’ve noticed it too?)

His eyes, haunted. There is more he dares not say, and he sees the same reflected in Cora’s gaze.

(Dalish…has a theory. You might want to hear it.)

***

The Chargers, diminished, meet Cora in the quiet of Skyhold’s small Chantry. It is the one place Bull does not go and thus it is _safe._

(She has taken to sitting inside, sometimes, when it is all too loud and silence is her only solace.)

She is grateful, for once, that Bull is too lost to track her down to the Chantry on the nights she cannot sleep. He has always found her, always led her back home.

Now she must be his guiding light. 

Krem clears his throat and Cora shakes the weight of her thoughts off her shoulders.

(You might want to sit down, Cora.)

He’s never used her given name before. Ice floods her veins and crackles in her heart; a hand steadies her own and it is then she realizes they’re trembling. Someone (Grim? Skinner?) brings a chair and she lowers herself down. A breath, then two, before she nods to Krem.

Dalish speaks:

(I’ve seen this happen before - in my clan)

Dread pools like lead in her stomach.

(Sometimes, after trauma -   
a person can come back…  
not alone.)

Not alone? Her brow furrows, and

_No._

(I do not know a gentle   
way to say this)

It cannot be.

(So - I am going  
to just say it)

Her Bull, a king in soul if not in life.  
Her Bull, steadfast and _solid._

(A demon may have  
followed him back  
from the battle at  
Haven)

Numb.

She cannot move, cannot think, cannot _breathe._

Bull is…

  
possessed?

(What sort of… demon?)

She spits the last word, can barely feel the shape of it in her mouth. Suddenly, fury blinds her in radiating clarity.

(I do not know, Cora.  
If I had to hazard a guess -  
fear, or rage, perhaps.)

(Get Dorian. And Fiona)

(Tell them nothing more  
than is required to get  
them here.)

If it takes a knife, she will use a knife.  
If it takes her soul, she will sign it away without impunity.

This demon is trespasser in her heart and she will burn it out of Bull with naught but her own fury.

***

It is much later when Fiona and Dorian appear in the Chantry. Only Krem and Dalish remain with her; she sends the rest of the Chargers to get Bull roaring drunk in the tavern, so that they might plot.

Cora cannot speak - she barely breathes. Krem relays the story and the Chantry is blessedly silent as the mages take it in.

(What she wouldn’t give for one of Dorian’s quips, though he too, sits in shock.)

Only Krem remains standing.

The silence stretches and suffocates until a quiet voice breaks:  
(Connor - in Redcliff  
(There is… a way.)

Cora’s eyes snap to Fiona, who holds her gaze with soothing calm.

(It will take lyrium.)

(What magic doesn’t?)

  
(More than is typically safe,  
Inquisitor.)

Oh.

(A mage will need  
to enter the dreaming  
and do battle with   
the demon)

It will be her, of course.

(I’ve only heard of this  
work once - and it was  
10 years ago.)

  
(Connor - in Redcliff.)

(Yes.)

(I will do it.)

A noise behind her, muffled. Dalish, holding one hand over Dorian’s mouth. Perhaps she wouldn’t have appreciated that snide remark after all. Dorian removes Dalish’s hand and asks - 

(Not a mage with  
more experience dreaming?)

(And you have such experience?)

(Do _you_ know Bull as  
well as your own  
heart?)

He is quiet. 

(I thought as much)

She turns and stalks out of the Chantry, pausing at the door.

(We begin at dawn. My  
chambers. Grab Cullen -  
we will need a templar  
if we - if I - cannot  
drive this demon away.)

Krem sucks in a breath; her own words hit Cora like a punch to her stomach. 

Should she fail, someone will die come morning.

***

The sun wakes, and Cora rises with it.  
The sun wakes, and Bull does not. 

She laced his wine, and guilt eats at her heart. She hopes he will forgive, for there was no easier way.

Sleep claws at her mind. She has not slept since the night prior and she is only jarred out of her daze when Krem enters her room, followed by the three other mages. Lyrium paints her room in soft blue light, lending her chambers a haunting ambiance in the growing light.

(Let us begin)

Lyrium coats her mouth, sticks to her teeth. Green eyes shine blue as magic thrums in her veins.

She is so, so _alive._

If she understood power before, she cannot say, for she _is_ power, contained. It takes little effort to slip into the Fade, and she is gone.

It is not hard to find Bull, trapped in a nightmare. He shakes and is fuzzy on the edges: it is near impossible to look at him without blinding pain.

Cora steps forward, moves to reach out to him-

  
He appears in front of her, wild rage alight in his eye.

A gasp falls out of her mouth and she is _afraid._

She is afraid of the one person who is her safety net.

(Oh, Kadan, what has happened to you?)

(It took my fear)

It is hard to keep calm, to keep her heart beating inside her chest.

(I can take yours too)

(You just need to let me in, Cora)

She leans into the hand he presses against her cheek.

(Let your fear  
come to me and  
we can stay here  
together)

He speaks like a songbird, enticing and fleeting: if only she could let go, they could be _happy_ for eternity. He could make them forget, if she concedes. What a boon he offers: no longer would she suffer nightmares of Redcliff, of Corypheus, of the Blight Dragon. No longer would Bull fear his own existence: he could be Tal-Vashoth and he could be _free._

Bliss.

  
(emptiness)

Fearless.

(hollow)

Happy.

(false)

Something tickles at the back of her consciousness. It is familiar - it feels safe, it feels like _home._

A mind-shattering roar.

Kadan?

(Cora)

Where?

(Cora please, let me in)

Bull?

(Kadan, please -   
we do not have   
much time)

I do not understand, what-

(Kadan, you must let us in.)

Us?

(Dorian and I   
\- we’re here to  
help you)

But - you’re…you’ve been possessed.

(No, my love - I  
am right here,  
and I am  
whole)

Not enough air, _tooquickbreaths,_ hands holding her face.

Bull’s hands?

(Kadan, you need to _wake up)_

Air floods her lungs; it is ice and fire at once and she grasps for something - anything - to hold onto. Gray hands hold hers, and the world stops spinning.

(How are you feeling, Boss?)

(I - what happened?)

(Despair demon. Followed  
us from Haven.)

(Dalish said it was a fear demon.)

(Kadan, the Chargers  
stayed at Haven to  
help rebuild)

(They haven’t been  
at Skyhold  
in weeks)

(Oh, kadan, what  
did he do   
to you?)

(Kadan?)


End file.
